A recent
discussion on a writers' forum reminded me of Robert A. Heinlein's five rules
for writing. These were put forward in his 1947 essay On the Writing of Speculative Fiction, and are still fiercely
debated, some considering them the elixir of life, others a poisoned chalice.
Robert A.
Heinlein (1907-1988, left) is considered one of the three masters of "Golden
Age" SF, along with Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke. He wrote some of
the great works of the genre — but do his rules hold up sixty-eight years after
he wrote them?
1. You must write
Well, this
seems the most obvious of the rules, though I'd possibly phrase it more like If you don't write, you're not a writer.
You choose what you do, of course, but a writer who doesn't write is an
oxymoron.
What this rule
ducks, though, is exactly what "writing" means. For a full-time
author like Heinlein, it might mean an eight-hour day in front of the
typewriter (or its modern equivalent), but most of us have to juggle many other
calls on our time: work, family, Facebook… No, scratch that last one, it's not
an excuse. Perhaps the rule should be Use
whatever time you can possibly spare to write — even if that only means
squeezing in ten minutes a day.
2. You must finish what you write
As with many of
these rules, my reaction to this is "yes and no". Its value is as a
counter to something I see with a lot of beginning authors, project-hopping. I
was guilty of this myself in my teens, rarely finishing a project before I lost
interest and went on to something else.
What it meant
was that I didn't get enough practice until a little later at writing something
complete, in particular learning how to end a story. It's certainly good
discipline to keep going with your current story and leave that shiny new
project on the back burner till you've finished.
That doesn't
mean, though, that every verbal doodle you put down has to be seen through.
Many of my stories come from a weekly exercise I take part in, writing for an
hour to a prompt. Many of my published works have started that way, included
the two stories I published with Musa, The
Treason of Memory and The Lone and
Level Sands, but equally I've put down many of these pieces as "fun
but no potential". If I felt I had to finish everything I started, I'd be
inhibited from taking part in these exercises and miss out on some great ideas.
Perhaps this
one should be Finish any project you commit
to, unless you have very good reason to think it's not working.
3. You must refrain from rewriting, except to editorial order
This is perhaps
the most controversial of Heinlein's rules. Taken literally, it's perhaps the
worst advice since George Lucas was told everyone would love Jar Jar Binks.
It's very rare for a first draft to be fit to send to any agent or editor, and
even if you revise as you go (which I don't), chances are you'll still need to
revise again in the light of the finished product.
Some people
(including, again, me as a teenager) believe that revision spoils the
originality and spontaneity of the initial concept. It's not true. Spontaneity,
like comedy ad-libbing, takes an enormous amount of work to get right, while
actual first drafts tend to be way off the mark.
Many people,
though, interpret this rule differently, as advising against constant fiddling.
That's far better advice. Getting hung up on making a story perfect is a recipe
for never finishing. No story is ever perfect, and I'm not even sure it should
be. If, like Oscar Wilde, your day's writing consists of inserting a comma in
the morning and removing it in the afternoon, it's a sign the story's good
enough to go out into the wide world.
Even so, the rule
isn't perfect. Not all rejections are accompanied by rewrite suggestions, or
any feedback at all, but occasionally time leads you to recognise one
particular aspect of the story that keeps getting it rejected. If you have really
good reason for believing a rewrite will fix that, go ahead. In any case, computers
have made revision infinitely easier than when I was first pounding a manual
typewriter — let alone when Heinlein was writing.
On a few
occasions, I've had a response to a submission that they can't accept the story
as it stands, but they'll reconsider it if I change X, Y or Z. Heinlein probably
wouldn't consider that an "editorial order", but perhaps he had
plenty of alternative markets lined up where he knew the editor. I assess
requests like that on merit. They've ranged from tightening up the opening
scene to changing the gender of the protagonist — it's perhaps not surprising
that I agreed to the first (and the story was accepted afterwards) and refused
the second, although not without considering.
So perhaps I'll
make that one When you've got your story
good enough, leave it alone unless you have a concrete reason to change it.
4. You must put the work on the market
Ultimately, I
write to communicate. Of course I write largely what I'd want to read, but if the
stories were purely for myself, there'd be no point in actually writing them
down. If I want anyone to read my work, I need to get it published, whether
with a professional publisher or self-publishing.
So yes, if you
finish a story, it's worth nothing unless you're trying to get it read. If
you're making a living from your writing, that has to mean "putting it on
the market", but few of us are in that league. In any case, there are more
options than in 1947, and a story can be published, self-published, or even
given away free in a calculated effort to generate interest.
So this one,
perhaps, could be When you've finished a
story, do everything you can to get it read as widely as possible.
5. You must keep the work on the market until it is sold
This seems to
me an over-insistent rule that nevertheless contains a truth. It's very easy to
get discouraged if a story is continually rejected, but all a rejection is
saying — unless it's accompanied by feedback — is that particular editor can't
use it at that particular time. It doesn't necessarily mean the next editor
won't snap it up.
We all know anecdotes
about how such-and-such a bestseller was rejected X number of times before
someone took a chance on it. I certainly haven't published a bestseller, or
anywhere close, but I did have one story that was accepted on the eighteenth
time of asking. And, having been rejected by a number of fairly small markets,
it was eventually published by a professional-rate magazine. It was simply a
good fit with them at that time.
On the other
hand, there comes a point where further submission seem merely cruel and
unusual punishment of a deceased equine. That's nothing to do with the number
of rejections a work has garnered. A story may be very specialist, for
instance, with only a few markets you can reasonably submit it to, and when
those are exhausted, there's nowhere else to go. Or the editor may give you
damning feedback which, after the permitted tantrum, you have to admit is
reasonable.
This leaves you
with three options. You can say sod them all and self-publish. You can decide
you'll probably never get a paid acceptance for that story, and stick it on
your blog for free. Or you can invoke the final sanction and mark it as
"retired" on your database.*
So we'll make
this rule Don't give up trying to get a
story published unless you're absolutely certain you're wasting your time.
So where does
this leave us? I have no great hopes that the Blatchley Amendment to Heinlein's
Rules for Writing is going to replace the original, but here it is.
1. Use whatever
time you can possibly spare to write.
2. Finish any
project you commit to, unless you have very good reason to think it's not
working.
3. When you've
got your story good enough, leave it alone unless you have a concrete reason to
change it.
4. When you've
finished a story, do everything you can to get it read as widely as possible.
5. Don't give
up trying to get a story published unless you're absolutely certain you're
wasting your time.
* Or "semi-retired" in my
case. Never say never.
Image of Robert A. Heinlein: "Heinlein-face". Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Heinlein-face.jpg#/media/File:Heinlein-face.jpg
Probably a good take on the rules, though with #3 how is a never-published writer possibly to know if a story is "good enough" until it's actually accepted by someone? I get way too close to what I've written to be remotely objective, and I vacillate between thinking it's pretty darned good, superior in quality to a lot of what's successfully published, and wondering who the hell I am fooling thinking I can write my way out of a wet paper sack.
ReplyDeleteGiven that this is true, it is altogether too easy to tweak endlessly, especially once you get some rejections under your belt and are scared to send it to the rest of your agent or market list without fixing whatever it is the form rejections are not telling you is wrong with it.